


Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea

by calcimeta



Series: Daenerys and the Dothraki [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Mild smut in chapter 7, This is entirely self-indulgent and no I don't take criticism, focus on dothraki culture, mildly smutty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18851368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calcimeta/pseuds/calcimeta
Summary: A collection of short snippets of the life of Myra and how her life changed when she met Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen.





	1. Khaleesi

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely self-indulgent for my little gay heart and dissatisfaction with D&D's writing. Will be updated as I please.

The first time Myra saw the Unburnt, she was in chains. Daenerys had no titles yet, only a cruel brother and a head of silver hair. She was a small woman, smaller than Myra but she suspected no younger, with locks of beautiful hair that easily set her apart from the rest of her _khalasar_. She rode beside the Khal Drogo, and from where Myra was, it was hard to tell whether Drogo was enormous or Daenerys was tiny.

Something pulled at her chains, pulling the Dothraki girl out of her daydream. She turned and snapped at the slave master, pulling back on the chains. She had always been a handful, untameable.. Wild. The noise seemed to catch the attention of the silver _khaleesi_ , her wide eyes of indigo halting her mare.

"Stop," she spoke nervously in broken Dothraki, hands fidgeting with the desire and fear of helping. When the slaver didn't, the girl furrowed her brow and hopped off her horse, much to the protest of the Andal riding behind her. "Stop." She said again, this time louder, more demanding. Myra whipped round to meet her, her own mane of thick black hair completely different to Daenerys' silver.

The slaver began to hiss at the _khaleesi_ in quick, fluent Dothraki, and while Myra could see she was ready to help, her eyes widened as the fast tongue lost her. Fortunately, the Andal Myra had spotted came over, and ordered the slaver to release them in equally fast, but messy Dothraki. The slaver protested, of course, but eventually conceded once Khal Drogo himself became involved.

Myra couldn't believe it as the chains snapped off. There was something different about the khaleesi; many others would not have even spared Myra and the others a second glance. " _Khaleesi_ ," Myra said, catching the attention of the woman. Her indigo gaze on Myra was like standing in the sun's rays in the heat of day. "My name is Myra." She spoke in her native Dothraki. "Let me fight for you, _Khaleesi_."


	2. Mother of Dragons

" _Zhavorsa_ ," Daenerys repeated slowly. "Dragon."

"Dragon," Myra said back. This was how they learnt each other's languages; they sat cross-legged facing each other in Daenerys' tent, the only light the flicker of a torch nearby. "You like the dragon?" Myra tilted her head a little as she asked Daenerys in her broken Common, burdened with a thick Dothraki accent.

Daenerys smiled a little, and nodded. "My brother Viserys says that my family, the Targaryens, are the blood of the dragon." She spoke slowly, allowing for Myra to listen and translate in her head as she went.

"You have seen dragon?" She asked curiously.

"No, never." Daenerys shook her head wistfully. "All of the dragons died long before I was born." Her gaze flickered up to a lavishly decorated box in the darkness. A long moment passed, before Daenerys' voice came back out, a flicker of something unknown within. "Can I show you something?"

Myra nodded enthusiastically. Any time spent with Daenerys was time well spent to her; every day she spent with her _khaleesi_ surprised her more than the last, and her Common was improving with Daenerys' Dothraki.

The Targaryen's long silver hair brushed behind her as she jumped up, picking up the box carefully and bringing it back over. Myra shuffled back a little to allow for space, and peered at the box with budding interest as Daenerys opened it.

"Egg?" Myra asked quizzically, curious at the large eggs and their colours.

"Yes. Petrified dragon eggs... A wedding gift for me from a friend. They are from the Shadow Lands."

Myra had heard tales of the Shadow Lands, from travellers and liars. She had heard there were dragons there. "Pet-ree-fied?"

"Frozen." Daenerys explained. Myra nodded in understanding, eyeing the dragon eggs.

"Egg is beautiful," she said, noting their colours; red, green, yellow.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, till the flicker of the torch made Myra look up. "Should sleep, _Khaleesi_." She advised, standing. Daenerys took the box and put it back gently, making sure it was closed.

"Thank you for helping me learn Dothraki, Myra. I really appreciate having a friend." Her _khaleesi_ smiled softly.

Myra felt that her heart might stop for a moment. "I am your friend?" She flickered with uncertainty.

"Of course you are." Daenerys stood close, taking hold of Myra's hands in kind affection. "Ever since we met, you have been nothing but loyal, and desperately wonderful to me. You're very patient even when my Dothraki is poor." She released a soft, tinkling laugh that sent shivers up Myra's spine.

" _Khaleesi_ , I do my duty only. I do not deserve such praise." Myra glanced away, feeling she might burn beneath Daenerys' gaze.

Dany raised a hand and gently shifted Myra's face so she was looking back at her. Her _khaleesi's_ hand on her skin made Myra feel that she was on fire. "Call me Daenerys."

Myra's eyes widened. "I cannot, Khaleesi. I am not... We are not..."

Daenerys held such affection and warmth in her eyes as she squeezed Myra's hands and laughed softly. "Go to bed, Myra. I will see you when day breaks."


	3. The Unburnt

Myra wished so desperately to run into the burning pyre, fast as she could, and pull her _khaleesi_ out into safety. She had found over the course of only a few moons that she had gone from alone and enslaved to surrounded by a _khalasar_ , a family, led by an ambitious, smart, but most of all kind woman who had gone to great lengths to adopt the Dothraki as her own - to lose her now would be unbearable.

Her eyes watched the flames as they seemed to part of their own accord, her _khaleesi_ stepping out of the fire with her clothes burnt off, tiny lizards - _dragons!_ \- clinging to her like newborns.

She was so glad to see her _khaleesi_ was alive, she didn't even notice she was completely unburnt till she had already run up to Daenerys, her wide eyes checking her for burns as the little dragons upon her snapped at Myra. " _Khaleesi_ , you are not hurt," Myra breathed, unbelieving. She could feel the heat of the fire from where she was standing, they were so close, how could Daenerys be unburnt?

Daenerys' eyes softened as she leaned forward and gently kissed Myra, her hands gently spinning through Myra's long, dark hair. "I am blood of the dragon, Myra, remember?" She said as she pulled back. "Fire cannot kill a dragon."


	4. Chapter 4

In the dark of the night, with no torches, no fire, the only thing Myra could see was soft eyes looking back at her. "What?" Dany murmured, shifting to entangle her feet and Myra's beneath the light covers.

"You are beautiful, _Khaleesi_." Myra whispered breathlessly. And she was; not just in looks, no doubt that her long silver hair and eyes of indigo fire were enrapturing, but her soul, her heart was beautiful too. She was kind, and just, and she cared so deeply.

Dany flushed and brushed a lock of dark hair out of Myra's eyes, moving closer till their lips met, softly, affectionately. " _Qoy qoyi_ ," Dany hummed. "Myra, you are blood of my blood... blood of the dragon."

Myra's gaze flickered. Heritage was important to Daenerys, though it was a priority Myra couldn't really grasp herself; yet she knew how much weight this carried for Daenerys. To be a bloodrider was not a rank that was thrown around carelessly, and both she and Daenerys knew this.

She also knew and understood the custom of bloodriders, but no woman was allowed to be a bloodrider. She watched Daenerys' eyes; no woman was supposed to lead a _khalasar_ alone, either. "I am blood of nothing," she protested softly, her brows furrowing. "I am blood of no-one, _Khaleesi_."

Daenerys' hands came to Myra's face, her soft hands cupping her and stroking her tenderly as she looked seriously in her eyes. "You _are_ blood of my blood. Swear to me. Vow before the Mother of Mountains that you will never betray me, and you will defend me to your last breath. If you do, I will vow to do the same. Myra, blood of my blood, do this for me."

She spoke so seriously that Myra nodded, and sat up, placing her hand on Dany's as she looked up at her, and spoke with her thick Dothraki accent. "My _Khaleesi_ , Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. I vow to you that I will follow you and defend you from friend and enemy same from this day to my last. Anywhere you go, Daenerys, I follow. You will never be in danger for as long as I can be breathing." She watched Daenerys' eyes soften and tear up, squeezing Myra's hand gently. " _Yeri are qoy qoyi, anha asqoyi anna._ "

Suddenly, Daenerys pulled at Myra's hand, falling into each other's arms with renewed passion. "Thank you, Myra," Daenerys whispered as their lips met.


	5. Breaker of Chains

Myra's thick hair was tied back into a braid, yet it only reached halfway down her back. She sat upon her horse, feeling the weight of her _arakh_ tied to her waist as she was surrounded by her fellow bloodriders, Rakharo, Aggo and Kovarro. The horses nickered impatiently as Myra eyed the Unsullied army; supposedly Daenerys was buying their services, though how she would pay for it, Myra was yet to see. She assumed her _khaleesi_ would have some sort of compromise planned.

Myra did not like the way the people of Astapor looked at her and the _khalasar_. They were too civilised to even spare a glance at the Dothraki savages, she assumed bitterly. Still, she sat tall beside her _khaleesi_ when they traveled, looking ahead with eyes of stone.

If they will assume that we are savages, they will know better than to cross us, Myra thought. At least that gave her some comfort; to know that the people of Astapor were likely afraid of the _khalasar_. She liked it no better than the others did, but at least it meant they stayed well out of the way.

The only thing the people of Astapor looked at were the dragons. They were a little bigger now, though still far too small to even consider riding as Daenerys had told her her ancestors had. Myra looked forward to seeing her _khaleesi_ ride her dragons eventually.

Her horse's soft whinny brought Myra out of her thoughts, reaching forward to stroke her mount comfortingly. She leaned toward Aggo beside her. "I mislike the way the Unsullied stand," she spoke in Dothraki.

"They look like stone models of soldiers," Rakharo said from her other side.

"Nobody naturally stands so still." Kovarro added.

"I suppose it speaks to their discipline," Myra surmised, though she still frowned at it.

"I have heard from the Andal that the Unsullied have their cocks cut off," said Aggo roughly.

Rakharo and Kovarro made disgusted noises. "He told me they have to raise a puppy only to kill it," Kovarro spat.

Myra's brows furrowed at that all, tuning out the rest of the exchange as she glanced up into the distance. She saw Daenerys, unmistakable as always, and the Andal and Kraznys mo Nakloz, the man she was buying from. With him also stood a young woman with tightly curled hair, though Myra thought she couldn't be a translator - she was sure her _khaleesi_ spoke Valyrian. Perhaps she had mistook the language for another?

The Dothraki understood at once when she saw Drogon led out on a leash, seeing him handed over to the slaver. Myra wanted to call out to Daenerys and ask her if the Unsullied were really worth one of her children, but soon enough she saw the flash of fire escape Drogon's mouth. Her fellow bloodriders chattered quietly yet excitedly about it, but Myra simply watched, smiling softly. Her _khaleesi_ had made no mistake after all.

 

Myra rode beside her  _khaleesi_ as she threw the whip of the Unsullied away. They were free men now, like Myra. They chose to stay by Daenerys' side, inspired by her. Like Myra.


	6. Mhysa

"Then we have 200,000 reasons to take Yunkai."

And so it was, the formidably certain way Daenerys spoke sending chills down Myra's spine. This was who she fought for, now and always, and the Dothraki and Unsullied were ready to take whatever cities their _khaleesi_ desired. If Dany declared she wanted all of Westeros and Essos and all the unknown continents of the world, Myra would take them for her. If Dany desired the Shadow Lands, she would take them for her. But Myra knew Daenerys would never demand anything of them; that was her way. She had her will, and her dreams, and her dragons and her armies, but she would never _demand_ anything of them.

She didn't need to. Daenerys was an expert in getting her people to love her so much they would be willing to take anything and more for her; if she was a less just person, Myra would be afraid of that power. But she wasn't.

And when, a week later, the Ghiscari mercenary returned declaring the city as Daenerys', Myra was as pleased as could be - though she found herself misliking Daario Naharis and his fickle allegiances.

"200,000 people are not longer slaves," Myra said to Daenerys that night, her accent thick as she unbraided Daenerys' intricate hair. "Because of you, _khaleesi_." She grew frustrated that her Common was not yet good enough to truly put into words how much it meant to her, how much _Daenerys_ meant to her. She swore she would one day, quietly, to herself.

"I couldn't have done it without the Second Sons, or without the Unsullied or the Dothraki," Daenerys protested. "Or without-"

"Stop," Myra turned Daenerys towards her, placing a finger on her lips. "They fight for Yunkai, but all would have not been here and want to fight without _you_."

"I was going to say without you." Dany smiled softly, her soft hands removing Myra's hand and leaning forward to kiss her. "You are my strength, and my temperance. I hate to think what I would do without you."

Myra was not sure what temperance meant, but held her tongue to keep the mood. She could ask tomorrow.

  
Later that night, they lay in bed together, Myra resting wrapped within one of Dany's arms as Dany's pale gaze watched the woven ceiling. "Myra," Dany whispered, receiving an acknowledging mumble in response. "Were you born a slave?"

She opened one eye a crack. Dany was looking down at her now, her hand drifting through Myra's dark hair. "No," Myra said after a long while. "My mother sold me to it when I was small."

"What about your father?"

"Dead. Died before I was born."

Dany's brows knitted in sorrow. "I'm sorry. Did you not have any siblings or..." she paused a moment. "Anything?"

"No. Just me, and chains." Myra pressed herself closer to Dany, seeking comfort she hadn't thought she wanted. "Remember my mother telling stories of her _khalasar_. I would dream of being a _khal_."

Dany smiled a little. "Not a _khaleesi_?" She asked, taking mock offence.

Myra shook her head. "I belong to no _khal_. Spent enough time belonging to people. Is time I chose to belong."

"I would never seek to make you belong to me," Daenerys assured her softly, suddenly worried that that had been what Myra meant.

"I know. That is why I choose to belong _with_ you."

Filled with affection, Daenerys moved over to her side and rested, face-to-face as equals, as she kissed Myra heatedly.


	7. Queen of Meereen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a touch of smut! I know, very uncharacteristic of me. It's not that detailed or anything, as in, you probably can't jack off to it. I mean, I'm sure somebody could, but unless you're pretty dedicated, I don't think it's detailed or long enough for that.

The sun was setting and soaked the city in gold when Myra approached Daenerys on her balcony. She didn't turn to meet her, her elaborate platinum braids flowing in the warm breeze, but instead continued to look out across Meereen. Across her city.

"Myra," Daenerys greeted warmly, turning to see her finally. Myra always felt like she would melt beneath Dany's soft gaze. She saw it more scarcely now, now that Dany had to lead an army and now a city her softness was reserved for when they were alone.

"My _khaleesi_ ," Myra returned, taking Dany's hand as it was offered and stepping out onto the balcony.

The new queen turned out to look at the city again, seeming so naturally in place despite being so new to Meereen. "These are all my people now," Daenerys spoke as she stroked her thumb against Myra's hand - the only indicator of any worry. "This is a big step towards my ultimate goal, and I am already much closer than I ever thought I could be mere moons ago. What if..." Her voice trailed away, before she shut her eyes and shook her head, as if trying to shake the worries away with it. She exhaled and took Myra's other hand, turning away from the view. "Let me show you the queen's chambers."

Myra allowed herself to be led throughout Daenerys' pyramid; she showed her her extravagant chambers, all the beautiful architecture, the views across the city, and eventually, the throne room.

"This is where the citizens- _my_ citizens will come to me directly with any grievances, questions or offers." She swept over to the throne, and sat down in it, seeming a little uncomfortable. Myra peered over the stairs, down to where she assumed the people would stand.

"Very far from people," She noted, wondering if the people would line up single-file or all wait in the same room. "Maybe move throne down?" Myra glanced questioningly at her queen, gesturing further down the stairs.

Dany tapped her fingers on the arm of the throne. "Maybe." Her mind was still buzzing, Myra could tell, but it was too late for her to do anything about all these questions till tomorrow.

The Dothraki moved over to where Daenerys sat, brushing her hands through her platinum hair to draw her attention out of her thoughts. Dany kissed her hand softly, her mind still racing and eyes only half following. Myra leant down and kissed Daenerys, her hand slipping beneath the soft dress. Dany gasped softly into her mouth as she made contact, and Myra broke the kiss to hike the skirt upward and press her mouth in between her queen's thighs.

Dany's hands tangled in her Dothraki's hair as her gaze shifted upward, breath quickening as she watched the ceiling.

Soon enough, Myra felt Dany tremble and convulse beneath her mouth, pulling back as she watched Daenerys sink into the throne much more naturally than she had before. Dany smiled down at her, eyes half-lidded as she stood shakily and pulled Myra to her feet. "Come, the royal chambers won't mess itself up." She grinned, and all at once Myra was seized by a rush of affection. She wanted to say it then, but then the moment passed and her tongue was frozen solid by fear.

Still, she let Dany pull her into her chambers, the pair giggling breathlessly as they collapsed onto the bed.


End file.
